Trouble had found her.

When Lilithia saw the pendant she was supposed to repair glowing with an eerie blue light under the night sky, she knew she’d done something terribly wrong.

This thing was more troublesome than she’d imagined.

The magic wasn’t complex, yet the pendant hid deeper secrets—especially those carvings of strange, unknown creatures.

Hesitating only a moment, she returned to her room and fetched a polished magnifying glass she’d crafted herself. Leaning close, she examined the accessory carefully—

Sure enough, tiny words filled the grooves of the patterns.

Lilithia had learned plenty of this world’s script. Though she’d never studied formally—barely literate by proper standards—she could read daily-use characters. Besides, she’d always paid more attention to such things than other children her age.

“Magic?”

It looked like an incantation.

If it was a spell… this wouldn’t be easy. Low-tier magic rarely required chants. True, powerful mages could cast high-tier spells without words—but most mid-to-high tier magic relied on incantations to activate.

That was common knowledge to Lilithia.

*Should I learn it?*

Her gut warned her: learning this spell might drag her into something disastrous. Something truly dangerous.

But this was the first high-tier magic to cross her path—a genuine opportunity. In a cultivation world, she’d suspect it was a tool left by some ancient powerhouse.

*Not learning it would be a waste.*

Besides, knowing a spell and using it were different things. As long as she never cast it in public, she should be safe… right?

A glint sparked in her crimson eyes. First, she’d copy down the words. Unfamiliar characters could wait—she’d ask others later or study them herself.

She melted ores bit by bit, carefully blending alloys until the mixture matched the pendant’s original appearance. Then, with painstaking precision, she used the molten metal as glue to seal the cracks. After cooling, she polished it smooth.

The finished piece looked brand new.

She nodded, satisfied. There was pride in mastering a craft. She’d started forging just to avoid starvation—but now, the work itself brought her joy. She craved higher skills, deeper mastery.

By afternoon, unease gnawed at her. Her father hadn’t returned. He’d only gone to town to buy magic-infused ores—a trip that should’ve taken a day. She’d expected him back last night.

But he wasn’t here.

This wasn’t right. Reborn as a man in this world, she’d briefly wondered if he’d gone drinking or whoring in town. But he’d visited before without incident. So why the delay?

A chill crept down her spine. Would her quiet life shatter now? Was this the fate every transmigrator had to face?

Just then, she spotted the young man from yesterday. For the first time, she studied him properly. Unlike the common gold or silver-haired locals, his hair was a deep, shadowy red. After seeing so many vibrant hair colors here, it barely surprised her.

*Wait—is he actually handsome?* Not just his face, but his steady presence made her want to trust him instinctively.

After observing him a while, Lilithia pulled the pendant from under the counter. “Here. Inspect it. Then we’ll discuss payment.”

The man took it, eyes widening in delight. “This craftsmanship! Far beyond my expectations!”

Lilithia shrugged inwardly. She never accepted jobs she couldn’t finish.

“So,” she asked, “what payment do you want?”

Relieved by his reaction, she glanced at the small mirror on the counter. She’d tidied up at noon—no more soot-streaked face. She put on her most endearing smile. “Could I… ask a favor instead?”

“Hmm?” His expression turned curious as he studied her. “What do you need?”

“My father—the blacksmith here—went to town for ores before you arrived yesterday. He still hasn’t come home. I want to search for him, but…” She gestured at herself. “I’m just a little girl. It’s dangerous alone. My mother’s busy with chores. Would you take me to town to look?”

This world wasn’t safe. A lone child could vanish into slavery with no recourse.

She refused to become someone’s plaything.

“Is that payment acceptable… Lord Fiore?” She’d remembered his name from yesterday. Few dared speak so boldly. “Call it… sympathy for a girl? You’re heading to town anyway. If we find my father, I’ll handle the return trip myself. I have coin—I won’t cost you extra.”

Words far too mature for a child her age.

Even Lilithia was surprised. She should’ve faked more innocence—but something about him screamed *not a bad guy*.

“If that works for you,” he smiled, “it saves me coin too. And I’m confident in my strength, at least.”

Lilithia ducked under the counter and pulled out a small satchel she’d sewn herself, slinging it crossbody. “Then let’s go! Anything else you need to do first?”

Fiore stared at her bag. “Do you have extras like this? Few here carry such finely made pouches. Nobles don’t need them. Strong adventurers use spatial magic items.”

“Is it for you or a gift?”

“What difference does it make?”

“If it’s for you, I’ll give you one. If it’s a gift, I charge.”

Fiore frowned. “Why? If I lied and said it was for me, then gave it away—you’d never know.”

“Well…” She tilted her head. “If you’d lie over something this small, go ahead. I trust you wouldn’t.”

*Strange girl.*

“Aren’t you telling your mother?”

“No. She’d panic and make things messy.” *Says the one sounding like the parent.*

At the village edge, Lilithia called out: “Uncle! One riding drake, please!”

“Oh! Lilithia!” A middle-aged man jogged from the stables. “Your dad in town again?” He didn’t seem surprised—until he spotted Fiore. “You… the adventurer from two days ago? Taking Lilithia to town? I warn you—no funny business. The mayor’s my cousin…”

“Uncle!” Lilithia sighed, handing him a silver coin. “Your drake rentals are way too pricey.”

“I take risks! Losing one drake costs days to recover.”

Though called “small,” the drake stood taller than a grown man.

Lilithia took the reins and passed them to Fiore. “Can you ride?”

“Name one adventurer who can’t.” He swung onto the drake’s back and offered his hand.

She took it, letting him pull her up. She settled into his lap.

“Ah, I can still save coins this way,” she mused. “Once I’m older, I’ll need to rent two drakes.” She glanced up at him, suddenly wary. “Just to be clear—you don’t have… *special tastes*, do you? Girls my age aren’t your type, right?”

*What kind of words are those?!*

Fiore froze. *Is she really nine? I’d believe twenty-nine.*

“If you don’t mind me asking, Lord Fiore…” Her voice softened. “Why visit our tiny village? There’s nothing here for someone like you.”

Fiore urged the drake toward town. “Precisely because there’s nothing I need here… that I came.”

*Trying to sound mysterious.*

A normal nine-year-old would be confused. Lilithia just sighed. “So when giants move, they don’t see the ants they crush. Your casual steps rewrite our fates, don’t they?”

Fiore fell silent.

“Don’t worry, young man. You’ve done nothing wrong. If you’re strong, your actions shake the world—that’s not a flaw. For those caught in the tremors… it’s only because we’re too light to stand firm. If I weighed as much as you, your steps couldn’t shake me. Giants crush ants. But they cannot move mountains.”

Lilithia watched the blurred landscape rush past. “In the end,” she murmured, “this world only respects strength.”